Hail Satan
by MJTR
Summary: A ragtag gang of space-demons has searched the galaxy for the most powerful warrior to serve as the new host for their long-disembodied master's spirit. And who could be a better fit than Mr. Satan, the hero mighty enough to have defeated the god-killing Majin Buu?
1. Chapter 1

Hail Satan

A Dragon Ball Fan Fic by MJTR

[[Author's Introduction: This one's sort of been a long time coming. It's one of those ideas that's been stuck in the back of my head for a year, maybe even two. Despite that, there's still some stuff I'm trying to figure out about it, I'm not exactly going into this one with as much planning as I sometimes give my work. But when it's Akira Toriyama's stuff I'm covering, that seems appropriate. I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

Timeline-wise I'm not really sure when this is supposed to take place and I'll admit outright there's a small contradiction with the canon timeline right here in the first chapter. I'm only changing things where it serves to fit the story and only after some careful consideration. If I had to take a stab at when this is set, I'd guess after the Champa arc of _Super_ , but before the Future Trunks arc, but since this is meant to emulate the style of the old non-canon movies, that's just a basic guide.]]

"Why… you ignorant oafs! Now that's enough out of you! Quit yappin' and start helping, or would you dare ignore the request of the great Mr. Satan?!"

In the remains of a long-rusted ship that had crawled across the distant reaches of space, this transmission had played over and over again.

"Yeah, that's right! I wasn't going to say anything, but now my secret's out! I'm kind of in the middle of defeating Majin Buu right now, so the sooner you send your energy, the better!"

Across the side of the ship, long faded by time and travel, was its name: The Dufon. The crew of four aboard the beaten vehicle had discussed the meaning of the words time and again. The debates were long held by the two who had been the senior-most officers back when the ship still recognized ranks. On opposing sides of the table were a large, burly man with a Mohawk and a slight woman with a pixie cut.

"It's impossible," The man, Shedda said. "We're talking about Majin Buu here. You can't kill that wily glob, at best you can just seal him away."

"If Majin Buu was still alive, the rest of the universe would probably be toast by now." The woman, called Zerella, looked back and forth between Shedda and a dim, unlit corner of the ship. "And if there's someone out there who could really defeat Majin Buu, then we may have finally found exactly what we're looking for."

Between the two a woman, Issa, both taller and more muscular than even Shedda, who took all their words in with reserved silence. Her old uniform was more battered than the others and showed off the physique of her crimson skin. Shades of deep red showed in all members of the ancient Fro race.

Near the bay windows of the ship sat the last of the quartet, a squat, bald and nasally Fro called Acho. "He didn't come out of nowhere either." He looked over the screen of text in front of him. "Seven years before, on that backwash planet of his? He apparently beat this crazy bug man who was said to be strong enough to destroy the whole planet. Hell, I heard Frieza was brought back to life, trained so hard his ki went golden and went to that planet. If he didn't destroy it, someone must have stopped him. This is Frieza we're talking about here!"

Shedda scoffed. "Someone that powerful, we'd have felt something, I'm telling you."

Issa breathed a heavy sigh and clenched her muscles. "We can't sense divine ki. It's probably like that."

Shedda glared first at Issa and then toward Zerella. "I don't want to be the one to tell the boss we went to the mudhole corner of the galaxy and woke him up all this time with nothing to show for it."

With a _poof_ , Acho disappeared and an exact replica of Shedda sat in his place. He spoke with Acho's same nasally voice. "I don't want to be the one to tell the boss we wasted his time. I'd rather keep driving around the universe like an idiot because I'm paranoid! Wah wah wah!"

Shedda punched the table and snarled. "Turn into an ass, Acho, so I can kick you all over the place!"

Zerella laughed. "Oh calm down. This is why he left me in charge of this ship, little brother." She stuck her tongue out at him and looked again toward the darkest corner of the ship. There, upon a platform, sat a small, onyx pot run through many times over with a set of skewers upon its top. Though it was an object of reverence for the crew aboard Dufon did not dare approach it without good reason. Something had remained in the pot longer than any of them could even remember anymore. The thing contained within was restless and moved at all hours of the day. All it wanted was to be free of its confinement. It was the duty of the Dufon to find it a new, more suitable place to go.

The rest of the crew nearly threw Acho out of the airlock when they learned he'd spent much of their repair money on a transistor radio that could pick up telepathic signals. But when they first picked up on word of some warrior battling Majin Buu, they could stop listening. The signal had come from far, far away, the journey toward Earth began nearly two years before. Shedda argued with Commander Zerella the entire trip, but she would not be dissuaded. Earth bore the warrior they had searched for for so long.

In the midst of preparation for the 27th Tenkaichi Budokai, the citizens of Papaya Island did not give particular heed to _smash_ of a beaten spacecraft when it made contact with the ocean a few miles offshore. How could there be time to pay attention to that when the greatest battle in all the world was about to take place?

Acho was given the duty of recon and eventually the task of slipping his companions in unnoticed. Despite his prowess in shape-shifting, the small Fro was never much of a fighter. So when the best he could do to slip the rest of his crew into the arena past ticket-counters was stow them away in the back of a delivery van while he wore the face of its driver, they knew better than to complain. Shedda did a little anyway.

When the tournament began a week later, no one gave particular mind to what looked to be a crimson-skinned family of four. At most, with their bad haircuts, were assumed to be fans of "Ramon," a greasy-looking punk in leather who was eliminated in the second round. And no one even gave much mind to the small black pot that Zerella clutched close to herself at all times. Surrounded by hundreds of screaming fans, they just beheld as, every few fights, they beheld Earth's greatest savior as he made quick work of his first opponent: a weighty sumo perhaps twice his weight.

Zerella held herself to try to contain her excitement. "Did any of you feel that?"

Shedda was less impressed. "No."

"I didn't either! It's insane, absolutely insane!"  
As the first round came to an end, however, the four beheld a sight that filled them with both dread and awe.

"And up next—" the blonde-haired, eye-shaded announcer called, "We all know him, we all love 'im, he's four-hundred pounds of fun, it's Mr. Satan's very own apprentice, Majin Buu!"

Zerella's heart began to race, an uneasy but satisfied smile cross Shedda. Acho sputtered in disbelief, "But it can't be! He's—he's primordial chaos! He can't have tamed him, there's no way!"

Even Issa glared down and her normal, stoic expression seemed somehow graver than usual.

Against the demon they had heard so much about stood a muscular warrior in a white gi and red headband. The warrior shouted as he ran, but the demon didn't even seem to pay attention as the fight began. The warrior sank a punch that could crack concrete into Majin Buu's face, which seemed to retract back into his head upon first contact. With a flurry of high pitched shrieks the warrior sank strikes into Buu's massive, gelatinous body. If the jinn had pressure points at all, he probably wouldn't even be able to stand by the time he responded to the punishment laid upon him.

Majin Buu took ahold of the warrior's face mid-strike and held him still for a moment. The pink demon's face _popped_ back out from his head as he met his opponent with a disapproving glare and pulled back his fist.

"Shouty shouty! You annoy Buu!"

With one punch the demon threw his opponent across the ring and directly into the grass outside the ring. The match was called in seconds, all four of the Fro sat in fear and anticipation as the tournament went on. Mr. Satan battled with a ferocious lion-man, a well-toned giant who wore an eyepatch, and a mighty luchador with near-unmatched grappling skills. Mr. Satan fought and defeated them all, but the Fro could not sense the enormous power reserves he was surely tapping into. But even as impressive as Mr. Satan was, Majin Buu dispatched all of his opponents even faster and with far less care or interest.

"Something's rotten here," Shedda said. "I can just sense it."

Zerella laughed. "It's only the pot. It's always the pot."

"Bull," Shedda said. "Satan might be good, but there's no way he's actually going to defeat Majin Buu."

A drunken patron a row up from the Fro shouted, "You're new around her, ain't you?"

Shedda crossed his arms and sighed. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Buu's a monster, buddy, but there's no way he can beat the champ. He never has before!"

Zerella smiled and elbowed her brother. "See? Don't underestimate the champ."

As the day was coming to an end and the sun just began to set, Mr. Satan stood in the center of the ring against his student.

Before the battle could begin, Buu shouted, "Mr. Satan! Buu's tired."

The champion laughed as he took his stance. "Yeah, well, I'm tired too Buu. Let's get this over with now!"

Majin Buu frowned. "No. Buu wanna go to bed now."

The cheering crowd slowly began to quiet as Majin Buu turned toward the edge of the arena, as if he intended to walk off.

Zerella frowned again. "What? He's just walking off?"

Chedda scoffed. "Yes, this is the man who defeated Majin Buu. A man he won't even give his attention."

As Buu approached the edge of the ring, Mr. Satan shouted, "Hey, you big, fat, loser! You're going to walk off and go to bed? It doesn't hurt me any, I just thought you'd be better than that!"

Majin Buu stared at the edge of the arena and slowly turned back toward Mr. Satan.

"I know you're probably afraid of me showing you up again, Buu, but these people paid for a show! Don't go letting them all down!"

After a long pause and a deep sigh, the pink blob turned back to face his mentor. Mr. Satan raised his hand and gestured at him to give it all he had. The audience sat in painstaking anticipation.

Majin Buu rushed at Mr. Satan and threw a punch with one of his fat, balled fists. The champion blocked first one strike and then another. Buu was fast with his hands and short, chubby feet but Mr. Satan saw all of his strikes coming and blocked every one. The feat was so impressive it could be reasonably mistaken for a well-rehearsed performance.

In the center of the ring, in a tone hushed enough the audience could not hear, Buu asked, "Done yet?"

"Aw come on, Buu!" Mr. Satan spoke loud enough to be heard at first but quickly hushed himself. "We've got three more routines to go over! We can't just—"

Buu opened his eyes, just a little, and glared down at Mr. Satan. Despite their friendship, even the champ still found that look unsettling at times. As Mr. Satan blocked another of Buu's punches, he resigned himself, dropped down low and delivered the demon a huge uppercut. The force was only enough to force Buu's head back a little ways, and for a few seconds, the two were totally still.

After a short pause, Buu asked, "Now?"

"Wha—Yes!" Mr. Satan again quieted himself. "Yes, yes now!"

Majin Buu suddenly flew up into the air and landed, dead still on the ground a moment later. As the tournament announcer began his knockout count, the Fro all stared, dumbfounded.

"Was—was that time manipulation?!" Zerella could have screamed. "It's perfect! Acho, get into position!"

The small fro shook with terror. "They're both still in the ring… they'll kill me! I'm a shifter, not a fighter, damn it!"

"Calm down," the embittered Shedda said. "If you can't do this, we'll never even have a shot. If he's not distracted, he'll surely know the master will be there trying to enter his body. We need the distraction."

"But—"

Issa set a hand on Acho's shoulder and looked down at him. "Stick to the plan. I will be there to help you if you fail."

Acho swallowed hard as he rose from his seat. "I'm not worried about what you're going to do."

A whole team of tournament employees was necessary to drag the unconscious Majin Buu out of the arena. With the hand free of his microphone, the announcer raised Mr, Satan's winning fist toward the sky.

"You saw it here first folks!" The crowd cheered with him as he made his proclamation. "Yet again, here he is! The champion of the people, the world's strongest man, the greatest under the heavens! Give it up for our winner, Mr. Satan!"

As the crowd erupted into cheers of, " _Satan! Satan! Satan!"_ a lone figure made his way through the mostly empty back voms of the arena.

With the sun set and the light turned out, only one employee caught him as he skulked around to toward the wall directly opposite the arena's entryway.

"Hey you!" He called out to the figure in the shadows. "You're not allowed to be back here!" As the figure raised one hand, a light began to shimmer from the center of his palm. Confused but still determined, the employee called out, "Hey! Are you listening to me—"

An explosion threw chunks of brick to and fro. Members of the audience screamed and Mr. Satan double-took before he turned around. He didn't remember arranging for anything else that day, he was ready to pack up and head home.

"Well well well, that was an impressive little display right there, Mr. Satan." The voice wasn't deep, but there was certainly a resonance to it. There was something in the inherent bravado nearly everyone in the audience recognized, even if they didn't want to admit it.

The dust settled on a silhouette within the inner hallway of the vom. Within was a tall, winged figure with a pair of rectangular protrusions in his head like a demon's horns. Beyond the shock of anyone who beheld the sight, Mr. Satan looked on, jaw dropped, in abject terror.

The words he dreaded saying most escaped him. "C-C-Cell?!"

With a fist clenched and a flash of light, the insectoid monster's green skin vanished in a glow of gold.

"That's right," he said. "It's time for the rematch of the century!"


	2. Chapter 2

Every bone and muscle in Mr. Satan's body shook and clenched as he faced his golden foe. In some dark corner of his mind, he had always feared this day would come. And, as the insectoid abomination approached he arena, he racked his brain for some way to escape with his dignity.

"C-C-Cell!" Mr. Satan puffed up his chest to appear bigger. "W-What are you doing here?"

"Oh you know good and well what I came for." Acho's heart raced in his chest but did his best to maintain bravado. He cracked his knuckles as he stepped into the arena. "I came all the way back from the depths of hell to pay you back!"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer yelled into his microphone. "I am afraid for the worst of what is going on here! Mr. Satan, what in the world is this monster doing back?"

Mr. Satan swallowed as he leaned over to the microphone as the announcer extended it to him. "I… I don't know what this loser is doing here… but he's not worth my time! Buu! Buu? Where's my apprentice? That'd be a fairer fight!"

The tournament's announcer tapped Mr. Satan on the shoulder and pushed to the spot just outside the ring. An entire team of paramedics was trying to lift, roll or in any way move the gluttonous blob of pink that laid fast asleep in the grass.

"I didn't come here for your apprentice, I came here for you!"

"… Cell, you don't want me to humiliate you again, do you? You couldn't even beat my son-in-law and he's a scholar!" Mr. Satan paused a moment and then spoke very slowly. "His name is Gohan. Son Gohan."

Acho folded his arms and put on his scariest face. "I don't care about your son-in-law, Satan, stop making excuses!"

"Are… are you sure?" Mr. Satan knew something was wrong, but that didn't make the situation any better for him. "My son-in-law. Gohan. My daughter and him love me very much, and you'd probably make him very mad if you—"

Acho put out two fingers and destroyed the microphone with a quick blast of ki. Mr. Satan and the announcer jumped backwards in terror. "Stop wasting my time! Now let me have my vengeance!"

For nearly a minute Mr. Satan faced the opponent he had hoped every day he would never face again. Then came a shout. Just one, a boy, maybe ten years old, somewhere in the audience.

"Mr. Satan! Don't let that big bug tell you what's what! Show his green ass who's boss! Satan! Satan! Satan!"

Slowly but surely, the rest of the crowd joined the boy.

"You beat him once, let's get it on video this time!"

"Kick his ass, Satan!"

"Satan! Satan! Satan!"

Mr. Satan's heart sank as he took his stance and muttered to the announcer, "Tell one of my agents to call my daughter. I want to make sure she sees this."

This might finally be the day his luck ran out. If one of his people could get the call out to Videl, she might be able to get Gohan onto the scene before the Golden Cell beat him to death. He figured there were those weird crystal ball things that brought people back to life, maybe he'd finally get to learn what that was like. And maybe if he could get another wish, he could make the audience forget what a fool he was about to make of himself.

In a large, well-decorated house on the edge of Satan City, a mother and a father laid sprawled, exhausted and on the edge of sleep, on a couch in their living room. Attempts to put little Pan down for a midday nap had been unsuccessful on both Gohan and Videl's parts. The tiny infant had screamed every time they let go of her in the crib, resisted any attempts to sing her lullabies and looked like she might have actually bruised Gohan with a fussy kick. The tenacity that ran through just a quarter of her blood was certainly still evident. So Gohan and Videl were defeated, and the little girl continued to roll around on the floor and play with her toes unabated.

The two groaned when the shrill screech of Videl's cell phone roused them. Videl glared at the caller ID and mumbled, "It's Miss Piiza. You think it's really worth answering?"

"Does your dad need another publicity shoot or something?" Even when he was trying to be sarcastic, Gohan wasn't very good at it. "I guess you should, it's the right thing to do."

With a long, deep sigh, Videl tapped on the screen and sat up. "Miss Piiza?"

The sultry voice on the other line asked, "Videl, dear, are you watching your father's match at the Tenkaichi Budokai right now?"

Videl rubbed at the crumbs in her eyes. "The tournament? Was that today?"

Gohan sat up straight and his eyes widened. "Aw no, did we miss it? Were we expected to come out and watch?"

"Well why would we?" The annoyance seeped into Videl's voice. "We all knew what was going to happen already, right? Dad beat Mr. Buu in the last round because he always beats Mr. Buu in the last round."

"I'm not going to argue about the past with you," Miss Piiza said. "Suffice to say, you're not watching right now, but I think you should turn on your television set. Now."

Gohan reached into the cushions of the couch and located the remote to the flat-screen TV across from the couch. After some struggle searching for the right channel, the aftermath of the Tenkaichi Budokai flashed onto the screen. As it did, both Gohan and Videl's pupils dilated and their mouths went dry. Even the previously pacified Pan took one look at the screen and began to cry.

Mr. Satan stood in the center of the ring and threw punch after punch at what he had long believed was a vanquished for. The face and body of the genetic monstrosity known as Cell had long been burned into Gohan's mind and still sent a chill down his spine. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the creature bore the same golden sheen as Frieza had when the galacitic emperor had power enough to fight toe to toe with a Saiyan god. Cell dodged every strike from Mr. Satan with what seemed to be a mocking calmness.

"No… no!" Gohan stood up and yelled. "How? Who could have brought him back? Was there another prototype we didn't know about? And why couldn't I sense him from here?!"

Over the phone, Miss Piiza told Videl, "Your father asked me to make sure you and your husband were watching this."

"Got it. Thanks." Videl hung up the phone, picked up Pan, and tried to settle her crying. She looked toward her husband. "You took him down once, right?"

"That was years ago," Gohan said. "I'm not exactly what I used to be… and if that glow is anything to go by, he's gotten even stronger than last time."

"Well you can't just let my dad die out there!"

Gohan raised his hands in defense. "I wasn't going to… I just had to be honest about this thing, and it might be really hard for me to come back from this thing too."

As he spoke and Pan continued to cry, Videl looked away from him and fought back tears of her own. "I know it's not fair to ask you to go, but—"

Gohan pulled his wife and daughter in and clutched them both tight. After the space of a few breaths, he pulled away and looked right at Videl.

"Call up my dad, and maybe Vegeta, if you can get ahold of him. I'll see if I can keep Cell busy until backup arrives."

In a large, well-decorated house on the edge of Satan City, a mother and a father laid sprawled, exhausted and on the edge of sleep, on a couch in their living room. Attempts to put little Pan down for a midday nap had been unsuccessful on both Gohan and Videl's parts. The tiny infant had screamed every time they let go of her in the crib, resisted any attempts to sing her lullabies and looked like she might have actually bruised Gohan with a fussy kick. The tenacity that ran through just a quarter of her blood was certainly still evident. So Gohan and Videl were defeated, and the little girl continued to roll around on the floor and play with her toes unabated.

The two groaned when the shrill screech of Videl's cell phone roused them. Videl glared at the caller ID and mumbled, "It's Miss Piiza. You think it's really worth answering?"

"Does your dad need another publicity shoot or something?" Even when he was trying to be sarcastic, Gohan wasn't very good at it. "I guess you should, it's the right thing to do."

With a long, deep sigh, Videl tapped on the screen and sat up. "Miss Piiza?"

The sultry voice on the other line asked, "Videl, dear, are you watching your father's match at the Tenkaichi Budokai right now?"

Videl rubbed at the crumbs in her eyes. "The tournament? Was that today?"

Gohan sat up straight and his eyes widened. "Aw no, did we miss it? Were we expected to come out and watch?"

"Well why would we?" The annoyance seeped into Videl's voice. "We all knew what was going to happen already, right? Dad beat Mr. Buu in the last round because he always beats Mr. Buu in the last round."

"I'm not going to argue about the past with you," Miss Piiza said. "Suffice to say, you're not watching right now, but I think you should turn on your television set. Now."

Gohan reached into the cushions of the couch and located the remote to the flat-screen TV across from the couch. After some struggle searching for the right channel, the aftermath of the Tenkaichi Budokai flashed onto the screen. As it did, both Gohan and Videl's pupils dilated and their mouths went dry. Even the previously pacified Pan took one look at the screen and began to cry.

Mr. Satan stood in the center of the ring and threw punch after punch at what he had long believed was a vanquished for. The face and body of the genetic monstrosity known as Cell had long been burned into Gohan's mind and still sent a chill down his spine. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the creature bore the same golden sheen as Frieza had when the galacitic emperor had power enough to fight toe to toe with a Saiyan god. Cell dodged every strike from Mr. Satan with what seemed to be a mocking calmness.

"No… no!" Gohan stood up and yelled. "How? Who could have brought him back? Was there another prototype we didn't know about? And why couldn't I sense him from here?!"

Over the phone, Miss Piiza told Videl, "Your father asked me to make sure you and your husband were watching this."

"Got it. Thanks." Videl hung up the phone, picked up Pan, and tried to settle her crying. She looked toward her husband. "You took him down once, right?"

"That was years ago," Gohan said. "I'm not exactly what I used to be… and if that glow is anything to go by, he's gotten even stronger than last time."

"Well you can't just let my dad die out there!"

Gohan raised his hands in defense. "I wasn't going to… I just had to be honest about this thing, and it might be really hard for me to come back from this thing too."

As he spoke and Pan continued to cry, Videl looked away from him and fought back tears of her own. "I know it's not fair to ask you to go, but—"

Gohan pulled his wife and daughter in and clutched them both tight. After the space of a few breaths, he pulled away and looked right at Videl.

"Call up my dad, and maybe Vegeta, if you can get ahold of him. I'll see if I can keep Cell busy until backup arrives."


	3. Chapter 3

In the center of the Tenkaichi Budokai arena, a stressed and confused Acho ducked and weaved around punch after punch the champ threw. Acho remained terrified of every strike, each he believed to be strong enough to have knocked out Majin Buu. But how in the world had Satan even managed to land a hit with how slow his punches were? Even as fat and lethargic as Majin Buu appeared to be, a demon of that age and power should have been able to dodge him out.

Up in the arena seats, Zerella and Issa watched with growing confusion while Shedda leaned back and crossed his arms, a slow grin crossed his face.

"What did I tell you?" Shedda said. "I don't know why that transmission went through, but it's clear he's a fraud. If you release the master now, he'll be pissed."

"He still knocked out Majin Buu!" Zerella strained to shout in her quietest voice, though that was hardly necessary. The crowd was too captivated with what was going on in the ring to pay any mind to him. "Just watch, maybe he's moving so fast we can barely comprehend his strikes!"

With his ears transformed into the bug-man's antennae, Acho glared up at the stands and demanded, "What?!"

With Acho momentarily distracted, Mr. Satan landed a punch right between his eyes. When he didn't immediately feel any pain, terror ran through his body. That time-manipulation punch would surely take effect at any second, and when it did the wrath of a man who had slain a demon as old as time would be upon him. There could be no worse sensation. The champion may as well have stepped backwards and told him he was already dead. He shut his eyes tight and prepared for the worst.

 _One one thousand… two one thousand… three one thousand_.

Acho slowly opened his eyes and unclenched his jaw. Mr. Satan stood before him as dreaded quakes ran through his body. It slowly dawned upon Acho that the strike was not about to make him explode. Still unsure of what was going to happen, Acho raised his fist and punched his opponent right in the nose.

Mr. Satan as forced back several feet, shouted in pain, and grabbed his nose as blood seeped through his fingers. The whole audience, the other Fro included.

A sneer crossed Acho's lips as a scowl seemed to reverberate in his eyes. "What even is this? That was pathetic! This is the legendary savior?! This is a load of bull!"

The champion stepped backwards as ki began to reverberate off of the body that appeared to be his old enemy. "Y-Y-You've gotten a lot stronger than before, but—"

"You dragged us out here and wasted our time! I don't know how you beat that wad of chewing gum over there, but you're going to pay for this!"

Back in the audience, Issa finally groaned with acceptance. "It seems we've been duped. At least Acho can get some of his aggression out on this sham."

Zerella hugged the pot to her body and looked sadly toward the arena. She never was any good at admitting defeat.

Acho shouted, "And I'll pay back this whole crowd for being suckered like I was!" He clenched his hands together and gathered ki for a blast. All throughout the seats people began to cry and scream in fear. Those that still remained from "Cell's" initial attack and hoped to see the fated rematch fled for their lives.

But just before the strike, Mr. Satan took in a deep swallow and screamed, "QUIET! All of you shut up!" Acho gave him no mind, but there was some calm briefly returned to the crowd. Mr. Satan had no idea if his last resort was going to work. But he was a hero to the people in the crowd, and despite all the lies that had come with that, he had to protect them, if he could. He raised his hands high to the sky. "Listen up! To everybody in the audience and all you guys at home, watching your TVs! Cell's tougher than he's ever been before and—and I'm not strong enough to stop him on my own! Please, put out your hands, give me some of your power! I need all your help to bring him down!"

All around the arena and all around the rest of the planet, there were those who questioned the request and those who cooperated immediately. And those who were unsure cooperated almost as soon as the others did so.

Mr. Satan had never tried anything like the request before and was unprepared when the surge of ki. Within seconds he let out an involuntary shout of pain. His body wasn't ready for all the power that came at once. But thankfully, he had somewhere to direct all that newfound energy at once.

As the massive influx of ki hit Mr. Satan, Acho again froze and his eyes dilated in fear. The pause was enough for the champ to close the space between them and throw a second punch right into his golden face.

In the last moment, Acho redirected almost all of his inner body to his head and left the rest of the Cell body as an empty shell. Which was fortunate for him, because Mr. Satan's punch had strength enough to knock his head right off his shoulders and flying across the ring.

Issa flinched. Shedda's jaw dropped. Zerella ripped the talisman from the pot, tore away the lid, and a force of great and terrible evil surged out toward the world champion. No one in the crowd questioned the chill that ran past them as the disembodied spirit within flung itself toward Mr. Satan. And the hero himself, exhausted from the transfer of a tremendous amount of ki for the first time in his life, fell down forward and fainted.

When the crowd recovered from their daze, everyone began to cheer and holler. The same paramedics who had tried to pull away Majin Buu turned their attention to Mr. Satan and hauled him away to the celebration and encouragement of the whole arena. High above, however, a lone figure frowned as he glared at the procession. Garbed in his Great Saiyaman uniform, Gohan asked himself what had just taken place.

"Whoever that golden guy was, he wasn't letting off nearly enough energy to be Cell, let alone a golden Cell… but Mr. Satan took him down anyway? Hard enough to knock his head off? What is going on here?"

In all the chaos and the transfer of ki, he too was unable to sense when the disembodied demon had slipped inside of Mr. Satan. After countless eons, Casu Marzu had finally claimed a new body, and soon even everyone on that dirtball of a planet would know his name.


End file.
